


constellations on your skin (galaxies in your eyes)

by mingcat



Series: chasing cosmos [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidents, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Falling In Love, Family, Family Fluff, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Not Canon Compliant, One Big Happy Family, Original Character(s), Pining, Romantic Fluff, Side Osahina, Swearing, Sweet, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a very good one at that, chiyo best girl bestest girl ever, curator!omi, dad!tsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingcat/pseuds/mingcat
Summary: The universe began in a rapid expansion, filling the void. It is made up of mass and matter and everything and nothing. It holds all the stars and comets and planets and black holes and whatnot. It is both the beginning of life and its utter damnation. That's what Miya Atsumu thought of when Sakusa Kiyoomi handed him a pack of tissues and a bottle of alcohol to clean up the mess his daughter had created. Suddenly he felt like he was about to rediscover the universe—all its nooks and crannies—in a brand new light.And maybe he'll discover something else along the way as well.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: chasing cosmos [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161914
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	constellations on your skin (galaxies in your eyes)

Atsumu had made many mistakes in his life—but never would his daughter be one of them.

"Daddy, hurry up!" Chiyo squealed, giggling as she looked behind her shoulder as she ran ahead of her father. She was a lovely girl with her long, silky, raven locks, her warm, mocha irises, and her pale ivory skin— a bit sunkissed due to the many days Atsumu would let her play out in the sun, more times than not joining in himself— it was a good thing she didn’t inherit her father’s vanity. Osamu would argue that she  _ did _ , but that she knew how to keep it well hidden and knew very well how to use her natural charm to get her way. Atsumu would always tease her about being tall for her age, but it was simply a cover up for his fear of his little girl growing up so quickly, never mind the fact that she was barely 5 years old.

“Yo-chan, look at where 'yer walking, please,” Atsumu had multiple bags of groceries on his hands, nearly stumbling as he peered over the top to keep an eye on his little girl. Chiyo continued to giggle, skipping in a zigzag pattern whilst licking her ice cream happily. Atsumu should’ve trusted his gut feeling the moment she had begged him for it.

He saw it all in slow motion. Chiyo’s fluttering pink dress catching onto the zipper of someone’s bag, the momentum tugging her backward, her feet slipping on the floor, the ice cream flying, and his daughter falling. He moved too late, dropping the bags in his arms to try and catch his daughter to no avail. She had already hit the floor, her ice cream splattered and ruined, by the time he got to her.

“Chiyo! Chiyo, oh, god,” Atsumu had to stop himself from cursing in front of her, rubbing her back soothingly and checking for any injuries. "Is anything hurting, baby?”

Chiyo looked up at him with watery eyes and shaking shoulders, but she didn’t cry yet. “Daddy, I didn’t mean to.”

Atsumu shushed her, bringing her into his arms. “Yes, baby, I know, it’s okay. It’s an accident, yeah? Daddy’s gonna help ‘ya clean up, hm?”

She sniffed and nodded, not upset at not being able to finish her ice cream, but more on the fact that she made a mess. Atsumu was proud to have raised her well in that regard. He helped her stand up and had her sit on a nearby bench. Bowing to the passersby in apology, he hurried to clean the area where the splatter of sugary sweetness happened. Rummaging through his grocery bags, he silently cursed himself for not getting any tissues at the supermarket. Sighing, he was about to resign his handkerchief to its sticky demise when a hand extended a small packet of tissues and a bottle of alcohol.

"Oh! Er, thanks, but I'll be f—" Atsumu paused as he got a good look at the person who offered him the tissue and alcohol. He had to do a double take because holy  _ fucking _ hell, this man was  _ hot _ . Admittedly, only the upper part of his face was seen while the lower was obscured by his mask, Atsumu just  _ knew _ the man was hot— call it an intuition.

The man had curly, soft looking, ink black hair, even darker eyes that seemed to glimmer with a thousand suns (which were probably just the fluorescent lights above but Atsumu liked to be poetic in most regards), his brows were thick and sleek with two moles vertically situated above the right one and a strong, sharp nose. He was obviously taller than Atsumu despite his slouch and wide shoulders. He was well dressed too— fitted, black turtleneck, oversized caramel windbreaker, fitted black joggers that just did  _ wonders _ for his legs, and squeaky clean white sneakers— and honestly Atsumu felt like a Victorian man seeing ankles with how little skin of the man was exposed despite it being mid-spring. He was also ready to give the remainder of his inheritance that he hadn’t yet left for Chiyo to this man just because  _ wow _ .

He must’ve dozed off or blanked out or something along those lines because the man had his brow arched and was speaking.

“Er, come again?”

“Just take it. Your uhm, sister, niece, uh,” he winced a bit, “she’ll need it more than the floor. Well, after you finish up, that is.”

Atsumu might’ve made a weird noise but he managed to cover it up with a cough as he accepted the items with a grateful smile. “Thank’cha, she’s my daughter, by the way.”

“Oh,” The man’s eyes grew a little before he averted them. “I didn’t, you, I, you just looked very young.”

Atsumu felt a bit giddy when he noticed the stranger’s ears growing red. He smiled up at the man as he finished up cleaning the puddle of slicky goodness and shoving the mess of tissues into a spare plastic he had in the grocery bag. “Yeah, I get that a lot. My ex didn’t want to keep her and I didn’t want her to grow up in the system so I took her in.”

The man shuffled in his spot a bit, eyes flitting here and there. “Oh, wow, I, I didn’t mean it like—”

Atsumu waved a hand good naturedly, smiling as he stood up and gathered his groceries in his hands. “Don’t worry, I understand. I don’t mind the judgement anymore.”

The man’s brows furrowed, following him to the bench where he left Chiyo at. “I’m not judging, though.”

Atsumu smiled at him. “I guessed ‘ya didn’t, just meant in general.”

Chiyo noticed her father coming closer with a stranger beside him. She stood and bowed politely to the man, smiling her sweet smile. “Hello! My name is Miya Chiyo and I’m five minutes old!”

Both men chuckled, Atsumu set down the bags to ruffle her head fondly. “It’s years, baby, and you’re not five yet.”

Chiyo huffed, pouting up at her father before beaming back at the man. The stranger chuckled and bowed back to the little girl. “Nice to meet you Miya-chan, I am Sakusa Kiyoomi, it’s nice to meet you.”

That’s when Atsumu, very belatedly, realised that he had yet to properly introduce himself. “I’m Atsumu, by the way. Miya Atsumu.”

Kiyoomi nodded and Atsumu guessed— well,  _ hoped _ — that he was smiling or at least grinning beneath his mask by the obvious shifting. “It was very nice to meet you, Miya-san.”

“Likewise, Sakusa-kun.”

The two just stared at each other, unspeaking, before Chiyo tugged at Atsumu’s sleeve that the two broke out of their spiel. Atsumu cleared his throat, picking up the groceries again while letting Chiyo take the smaller, lighter ones. He looked back at Kiyoomi and grinned with a tilt of his head. “Well, it was nice meeting ‘ya. Thanks again for the tissue and alcohol, ‘ya really saved my life there.”

“It was no problem, keep ‘em, by the way.”

Atsumu nodded and bit his lip, hesitant to part with the kinda-stranger. “I guess this is where we part ways. If we ever bump into each other again, I’ll make sure to pay you back for the tissues and alcohol."

Kiyoomi shook his head. "It's fine, I've got a lot of those, anyway." He bowed his head, fiddling with the ends of his jacket. "Goodbye then, Miya-san, Miya-chan. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Before the father and daughter could say goodbye properly, Kiyoomi had already bowed, turned and left. Atsumu watched his slouched figure move further away for a moment before he began walking as well, Chiyo right next to him. The girl giggled, beaming up at him.

"Daddy has a crush!"

Atsumu spluttered, almost tripping on his own feet. "No, I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"No, I don't!"

Chiyo giggled again, looking ahead with a skip to her step. "I'm telling Samu oji-san and Shoyo oji-san!"

Atsumu huffed and groaned, already dreading the torture awaiting him at the onigiri shop.

—

Kiyoomi wasn't that far yet when he heard Chiyo basically yell to the world, ' _ Daddy has a crush! _ ', which only made him blush harder beneath his mask and walk faster.

Maybe he had a crush, too.

—

“So—”

“Shut up, Samu.” Atsumu glared at his smirking brother from across the counter.

Osamu rolled his eyes and went back to wiping the dishes. “Look, all I’m saying is that it ain’t wrong for ‘ya to go find yerself someone new after the she-devil bitchass motherfucker screwed ‘ya over.”

“As much as I adore the unnecessarily long nickname for her, I’d appreciate it more if ‘ya didn’t say that in front of Chiyo.”

“Eh? I only call her ‘devil’ with the little angel in the room.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ‘ya liar.” Atsumu huffed and went back to the shoving onigiri into his mouth. Shoyo chose to enter the shop at that very moment, a happy and upbeat Chiyo holding a large stick of potato swirls at his tail.

“We’re back!” Shoyo greeted, picking Chiyo up and twirling her around and depositing her into her awaiting father’s lap before leaping over the counter to give his boyfriend a kiss, smiling into it. “Hi, riceball.”

Osamu smiled back, leaning in to leave a peck on the younger’s nose. “Hey, fireball. I missed ‘ya.”

Shoyo chuckled, snuggling into the taller’s arms. “I missed you more!”

“Aw, no kisses for me, Sho-kun?” he pouted, looking back down at his daughter who was giggling at his antics, completely used to him acting like a child. “Yo-chan, Samu is hogging Sho-kun all to himself.”

Chiyo laughed as she wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, careful not to accidentally stab him with the stick of her nearly finished snack. “I’m still here for ‘ya, Daddy!”

Atsumu laughed, hugging her back just as tight. He loved it when she’d sometimes subconsciously speak with an accent. “Ah, Yo-chan is the only one I trust!”

Osamu snickered. Atsumu stuck his tongue out at him from behind his daughter’s shoulder. Before he could even continue, the bell on the door jingled and Chiyo let a loud squeal and clambered off of Atsumu’s lap to run off somewhere.

Atsumu let out a breath in mocked disbelief. “The audacity, the double standards, the betrayal, the—”

“Sakusa-san!”

Okay, let it be known that Miya Atsumu believed in many things— the Big Bang theory, black holes, the butterfly effect, parallel universes, migrating magical beings traveling along the trailing tails of shooting stars, and much, much more. And among those many things was fate and boy, oh,  _ boy _ , did he feel like fate was looking down at him while sitting atop a mountain pile of golden drachmas with a lollipop in one hand and a wine glass filled with lemonade in the other while sticking his tongue out at him and saying,  _ ‘ _ **_ha_ ** _ , played ‘ya! _ ’ in the voice of a rip-off Captain Jack Sparrow.

A soft chuckle came from the door followed by a gentle, “hello, Miya-chan. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Atsumu had managed to stop the blush from rising to his cheeks, ignore his brother’s sly grin, and turn around just in time to see Kiyoomi tug off his mask to smile down at Chiyo and ho… ly…  _ fuck… _

Sakusa Kiyoomi was hot. Like,  _ hot _ , hot, and oh,  _ god _ , Atsumu couldn’t believe his own gut feeling was right, even when it had never led him astray. Well, except for she who must not be named. But he did get Chiyo because of her so maybe it  _ was _ always right.

Kiyoomi’s eyes flitted up and connected with his which finally snapped Atsumu out of whatever trance he was in. He smiled politely and waved in greeting. “Oh? Sakusa-kun! What a coincidence.”

Oh, what a coincidence indeed.

Kiyoomi nodded his head, smile turning a bit shyer than before. “It’s nice to see you again, Miya-san.”

Shoyo perked up. “Oh? Oh! Omi-san! I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s work?”

Kiyoomi gestured for Chiyo to walk ahead as they approached the counter. Atsumu glanced at Shoyo and arched a brow. He hadn’t known Shoyo knew Kiyoomi, nor had he known that Shoyo knew Kiyoomi for a while if the familiarity and obvious casualness was any indication.

“Work’s been fine. Kei said he and Kuroo-san were holding a dinner soon, I’m assuming you're invited.” Kiyoomi said as he settled in a seat away from Atsumu, taking out a wet tissue from somewhere in his jacket to wipe it first. The latter was about to pout— scratch that, he was already pouting, but he grinned when Chiyo sat next to him with a suspicious looking piece of jerky that he had no idea where she would’ve picked up in the short trip from the door to the counter. He let it go, seeing as no food in his brother’s shop was inedible and harmful. Well, other than the intentionally poisoned pieces of cheese Osamu left lying around in the kitchen for the annoying rat problem he’s been having for a while—

Atsumu subtly pinched himself. His train of thought was all over the place ever since Kiyoomi appeared in his life.

Shoyo turned to him to explain that Kei was Kiyoomi’s co-worker and a friend of the former from high school while Kuroo was his boyfriend. Atsumu made a sound of acknowledgement before he watched as Shoyo leaned forward, hands supporting him on the counter. "You never come to any of our gatherings," the younger whined.

Kiyoomi averted his eyes, taking out another wet tissue to wipe his hands this time. "Yes, well, Komori's been berating me on getting out more and I figured that considering Bokuto-san would be there, Akaashi-san would be, too. At least with him there I'll be able to stay sane."

Shoyo made a weird face and a weirder sound, looking something in between offended, sad, disappointed, and amused. A hilarious sight, really. "Omi-san… how could you…"

He proceeded to turn back towards his boyfriend and bury himself in his arms, wailing like a kicked pup while Osamu rolled his eyes fondly, wrapping his arms around the smaller in a sorta hug.

Atsumu noticed Kiyoomi's lips curl a bit in a silent laugh. "Shut up, you fumbling parakeet. You're one of the more bearable ones if it's any consolation."

Just like that, Shoyo was back to being the usual ball of sunshine and goodness that he usually was. Atsumu chuckled, as did his daughter.

"So, what can I get'cha?" Osamu called from the storage room, getting out a new batch of rice.

"I was told to order the original onigiri set or burn to ash so I'll have three of those."

Osamu nodded, chuckling, and set off to work as Atsumu arched a brow, grinning playfully. "Three, eh? Quite an appetite 'cha got there, Omi-kun."

He enjoyed the flush that crept up the other's ears at the new nickname. "I'm passing by Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san's apartment so I thought I'd buy some for them. They're my, uh, colleagues, I guess. The other one's for Kei to take home since his shift ends before mine begins."

Atsumu hummed, leaning his cheek on his palm. "'Yer a good friend, Omi Omi. What's 'ya work, anyway?"

"I'm an archivist and the co-curator of the prehistory department at the National Museum."

Atsumu's eyes widened. "The big one down the street?"

Kiyoomi nodded as Atsumu and Chiyo made a sound of amazement. Shoyo walked around the counter to sit on Atsumu's other side, beaming as he proclaimed, "Omi-san is really good at his job! Tsukishima, that's Kei, mentioned the higher ups talking about making him director."

Atsumu looked back at the other to see him blushing harder, slightly glaring at the orange haired man. "Really, now? Well, ain't that amazing!"

Chiyo pulled at his shirt, bright eyed and smiling wide. "Daddy, we haven't been there in a while! Please, please, please?"

Atsumu chuckled, kissing the crown of her head lovingly. "Anything ‘ya want, baby. We'll go when daddy gets off off work on Friday, how does that sound?"

Chiyo squealed and jumped at him, near strangling him by hanging off his neck. "I love 'ya daddy!"

Atsumu hugged her back tightly. "Love 'ya too, squirt."

Atsumu and Kiyoomi's eyes met—deep, warm, brown ebbies and obsidian blackholes. Kiyoomi smiled before looking away, the hug seeming a bit too private for him.

The conversations flowed easily and steadily after that as Osamu prepared and packed the onigiri.

“Thanks,” Kiyoomi bowed his head as he accepted the bag full of mouth-watering, freshly made rice balls. “How much?”

“That’ll be—”

“On the house, my treat.” Atsumu smiled at Kiyoomi, pinching his brother when he made to make a comment.

Kiyoomi gave him a look. The blonde thought it was honestly illegal to look that attractive with a simple twitch of the lips. "I don't think it's proper. I should probably ju—"

Atsumu cut him off with a shake of his head. "I insist. Consider this payment for the tissues and alcohol."

The curly haired raven hesitantly accepted the paper bag from Osamu with a smile before looking back at the blonde. “Those cost barely a third of these, you know.”

And, oh.  _ Oh _ . The tone of his voice… Was he  _ flirting _ with Atsumu?

Kiyoomi had tugged his mask back on but there was a glint to his eyes and an angle to his brow that presented an opening— a challenge.

Well then…  _ well then _ . Miya Atsumu was never one to back down.

He stood and gestured to the door, accompanying the other who was on his way out. When he knew they were out of earshot of any gossiping loudmouths or annoying lookalikes, Atsumu mumbled with a singsong tone. “Then how ‘bout ‘ya go on a date with me sometime and make things fair?”

Kiyoomi turned to him with wide eyes, ears quickly turning red. Atsumu had half the mind to tug his damn mask down if it meant he could see how red the rest of his face was. The raven’s eyes darted here and there, unsure of where to settle. “I, you, that’s,” he took in a deep breath, steadying himself. Letting it out slowly, he nodded, looking back at Atsumu directly. “Okay, yes, that would be nice.”

“Really?” Atsumu shot his shot, sure, but he never expected his shot to actually hit its target, to make the bull’s eye any less. “‘Yer sure ‘bout that?”

Kiyoomi chuckled deep and low and  _ sweetmotherofallthingsotherwordly _ if that didn’t make Atsumu’s blood boil and rush south in a large wave. “You’re the one who asked, Miya.”

Atsumu seemed dazed, not even noticing that Kiyoomi had already stepped out of the restaurant before Osamu yelled, “Well what'cha waiting for, a goddamn hurricane? Chase after him, idiot!”

Atsumu turned to glare at him one before he was bolting out the door and down the sidewalk.

“Wait!”

Kiyoomi, who was a couple feet away from him stopped and turned, head tilted so lovely and enticingly. “Yes?”

Atsumu panted a bit before yelling back, dismissing the weird looks he was getting. “I don’t have ‘yer number!”

“You said you’re gonna visit the museum on Friday, right?” Atsumu nodded. “If you come before six in the evening, you can get it from me then.”

Before the blonde could retort or further comment, Kiyoomi winked ( _ winked _ !) at him before turning and walking away, leaving Atsumu looking like a gaping fish for the second time in less than three minutes. When the other’s words finally settled into his head, he began to retreat back to the restaurant. He had to bite his bottom lip hard to stop himself from smiling and yelling out.

Maybe the stars were finally lining up for him after all.

—

Chiyo giggled as she swung their connected hands back and forth, skipping alongside her father. “Daddy, you dressed up pretty today!”

Atsumu glanced down at his outfit. It was nothing special— a plain, fitted white shirt that he knew did  _ wonders _ for his pecs tucked into black jeans, a black belt, long black socks, black Converse kicks, and a slightly faded, deep maroon jacket that he decided to put on last minute when he couldn’t fully scrub off the markers his daughter had used to colour his tattoos with earlier that afternoon. There was nothing dressy about it, per say, other than the fact that he barely made an effort beyond sweatpants, joggers, plain tees, and hoodies ever since the fire-breathing bitch fucked him over, upped, then left. He blushed at how he had subconsciously done so. Perhaps he wanted to impress the man more than he thought.

“What’cha talking ‘bout, squirt? Daddy’s always a good dresser.” he winked down at her, spinning her around once just to hear her laugh.

“Daddy does always look good, but Samu ji-san looks better—”

“Eh?!”

“But daddy’s dressed kinda like Samu ji-san today so you look really good! Like, goodest good!”

Atsumu wasn’t sure about how he felt about his brother being a better dresser but he overlooked it, opting instead to pinch the tip of Chiyo’s nose as they climbed the steps of the National Museum. It really was a big building; 5 stories high with roman style pillars lining the front and large mirrored windows standing tall and inviting, it was the perfect mix of old and modern. There were many people mulling about, entering, exiting, or just walking around the large park-like garden next to the museum. One of the people leaving the building was a tall, lean but also well built man with wavy blonde locks. He pushed his specs higher up the bridge of his nose as he grumbled something about never taking the afternoon shift again. He glanced up and met Atsumu's eye before looking at Chiyo next to him and raised a brow. Approaching them, he spoke before Atsumu could let out a verbal greeting.

“Please tell me that your name is Miya Atsumu and that you know a man named Sakusa Kiyoomi.” he spoke quickly and frankly, a bit of fatigue and exasperation in his tone. Atsumu made a weird sound, hand in Chiyo’s tightening a smidge, tugging her closer and behind him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The blonde let out a sigh of relief, an end to his suffering. “Oh, thank f— uh, god,” he cleared his throat, eyes flitting once to the little girl by Atsumu’s side. “Hi, sorry if I came off as rude. I’m Tsukishima Kei and it would be really great if you head in there and go to the ancient greek gallery. Do me a favour and put me and him out of our misery, yeah?”

And just like that he was bowing in farewell and walking off. Atsumu stared at him in confusion and shock, blanking for a moment until Chiyo was pulling him along, rambling excitedly about seeing ‘pretty Sakusa-san’ and the ‘daddy’s-old-socks smelling but Samu-ji-san-looking statues’. The blonde was too distracted by the misery thing to be offended by his daughter’s innocently insulting comment for the nth time that day. Getting through security and paying for their passes easily, the father and daughter smoothly walked down each gallery along the hallway that led to the ancient greek and rome section. Atsumu was so focused on keeping Chiyo at a distance that made sure no relic, display, or any sort would be ruined in the rare case of an emergency (Atsumu would die before letting anything hurt his little girl, but Chiyo was a wild little thing and while he loved that she took after him, he was still only human, which meant he only had two hands and two feet and those alone couldn’t always save his daughter from whatever mischief or accident she sometimes found herself in or a part of) that he had failed to notice the tall, handsome man decked in all black approaching them with a warm smile.

“Chiyo,  _ baby _ , yes, it’s very cool, yes, my little girl deserves all the coolest, prettiest,  _ bestest _ things in the world but no, daddy can’t get’cha an actual mummy fer ‘ya birthday unless ‘ya want daddy to mummify ‘Samu then by all means—”

A deep and low chuckle. “I think the stuffed toys in the gift shop will work perfectly fine without you having to suck your brother dry of life while he's still perfectly alive.”

Chiyo was squealing and running away the next second. “Sakusa-san!”

Perfect timing as always.

Atsumu took in a deep breath before turning around, the smile on his face a little forced as he tried to tone it down so he wouldn't look like a total fool in front of the other—

Oh, forget it, he already knew he looked like an absolute buffoon when the raven looked like  _ that _ .

Kiyoomi must’ve noticed the gobsmacked expression on the blonde’s face based off of the smug little grin on his face.

“Miya,” a nod.

Atsumu swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Omi-kun.”

"Shall we?"

The blonde wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not but Kiyoomi might’ve given him a discreet wink before steering Chiyo down the next hallway to personally give her a tour.

“You gonna catch up or what?”

“Yuh, yeah, right behind ‘ya!”

Atsumu really wanted to pay attention to what Kiyoomi was saying about the displays and such, but he was finding it hard to do so when the raven spoke. It’s a stupid notion, he knows, but the other’s voice and the way he spoke made wedding bells ring in the back of the blonde’s head and that was a thought he was totally  _ not _ ready to entertain. He wouldn’t be  _ opposed _ to it, however. He tried, though, to understand all the facts Kiyoomi was spewing off of the top of his head and to give a believable enough answer to all of Chiyo’s questions directed at him. A single glance at the raven’s amused grin could tell that he wasn’t even close, but the attempt was noted. It was a quick tour since Kiyoomi still had other things to do. It was when they finally stopped by the gift shop and Chiyo bounded over to the plushie mummies (clearly within sight of her father) that an opportunity arose. Atsumu had to act quickly and play his cards right.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde turned to the other with a crooked grin. "So, Omi-kun—"

"I wasn't sure if you were actually going to come," Kiyoomi muttered in a rush, his head bowed as he fiddle with the edge of his black leather gloves. The blonde paused, waiting for him to continue. "I know it's wrong to assume things and all but you're not the first person to try and ask me out. Before you go for it, I'll just give you a forewarning that I'm… difficult to deal with most of the time. And I have a lot of weird habits, you've already noticed my obsession with cleanliness. There's more of that. And, and I probably won't always be able to give back the same energy, or I won't always let you touch me, or I might not—"

"Omi-kun."

Ah, those wonderful galaxies hidden behind glassy spheres.

"Yeah?"

Atsumu smiled at him. "I’ve met’cha only thrice now and I really can’t wait to take you out on a date to show ‘ya how ‘ya should be treated. All of those other assholes fuckin’ missed when they passed ‘ya off.” he shrugged, letting out a sigh. The smile had yet to leave his face as he took in the progressively reddening features of the raven. “Good for me, though. I’mma keep ‘ya all to myself.”

Kiyoomi laughed lightly at the wink thrown at him, he stopped fiddling and some weight seemed to have lifted off of his shoulders with the way he stood a little taller and much more casual. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, Miya?”

The blonde grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Call me an optimist but I can see us lasting a long while.”

The raven offered him another small tilt of the lips. Atsumu was ready to give in and just get down on his knees to worship the god before him when Chiyo came running back with a weasel plushie in her clutches instead of the mummies she was previously obsessing over.

“Daddy, look!”

“What happened to the mummies, squirt?” her father chuckled as he squatted down to ruffle her head, making the little girl giggle and squeeze the plushie to her chest.

“This one looked cuter, and the mummies weren’t soft enough,” she pouted. “The tape looking thingy felt scratchy.”

That elicited another laugh from the blonde. “Alright, baby. Head to the counter and daddy ‘ill be right there, okay?”

Chiyo nodded and skipped back to the back of the shop. Atsumu stood and looked back to the raven who had soft eyes looking at his daughter. The sight made something in his heart stir.

“Omi-kun?”

God, he really couldn't tire of having those eyes on him. The blonde held his hand out with a smaller smile that seemed all the more genuine. “I don’t mind ‘yer eccentricity and I won’t mind ‘em even after I get to know them one by one. And I'd really like to get to know ‘em. Know ‘ya. If you’d let me, that is.” The last bit went a pitch higher, making it seem more like a question. The raven had an unreadable look in him as he stared at the outstretched hand. Atsumu felt a slight strain on his arm, and he was sorta starting to sweat, and oh, god, what if the other said no, he should’ve held back a little, it  _ was _ only the third time they met and—

Oh, heckin’ shit fuckity  _ fuck _ , the warmth emanating through the leather felt so, so…  _ nice _ in his palm. Their fingers slotted nicely like little puzzle pieces in the universe. Kiyoomi gripped his hand, smiling. It seemed the two of them couldn't hold back on all the smiling while in each other's presence.

"Okay, Miya." The tone was low but promising.

Atsumu was positively beaming as he chuckled and tugged on their linked hands to get them moving. "I'mma make 'ya fall for all of my own weird habits and shit and 'ya ain't gonna get a refund."

There was a squeeze on his hand. "Not expecting to."

The explosions that statement caused in Atsumu’s veins.

Sadly, the handholding was short-lived as they had to let go before they reached the counter but the warm print was already seared onto their skin, a feeling etched in memory. Atsumu paid for the weasel and recieved a couple 'thank you' kisses from his daughter. They were quick to head back to the front lobby with Kiyoomi in tow, ever the gentleman and efficient tour guide.

"So when are you free?"

A teasing arch of a brow. "I'm good tomorrow if you're really that eager."

"Dammit, I've got work tomorrow. Saturday next week?"

"Mh, sure."

"Great!"

"Yeah."

The two locked eyes and bursted into laughter, forcing themselves to tone it down after getting a few dirty looks from the patrons and a couple surprised ones from the lingering staff. Kiyoomi dug out something from his pocket and handed it to the blonde. "Shall I expect a call soon?"

Atsumu nodded quickly in succession, eyes flitting back and forth between the slip of paper in his hand and the dark eyes trained on him, unsure of where to settle. The raven chuckled, crouching down to bid goodbye to Chiyo and whisper something Atsumu couldn't catch. The girl nodded, visibly vibrating, which made her father all the more curious. He gave the raven a questioning look but the other just waved it away, already beginning his retreat.

"Goodbye Miya-san, Miya-chan."

"Bye Sakusa-san!”

“See ‘ya, Omi-kun!”

Just like that, Atsumu had a date, a new cosmo to explore, and about a third of his wallet gone. The things he would do for his little girl, honestly.

—

“Oh my god, you  _ are _ blushing.”

Kiyoomi spluttered, turning around to give his fellow archiver who sported classy looking specs an incredulous look. “I am  _ not _ blushing.”

Another archiver with spiky dark hair glanced up from his files to look at him and snorted. “Oh, yeah, ‘Kaashi’s right, I ‘ve never seen your ghastly face so… I don’t know, colorful.”

The two laughed at the raven’s expense, making him redden even more. “Don’t you two have a job to do?” Kiyoomi grumbled out, roughly thumbing against the frayed edges of his favorite leather bound organizer.

“So do you, but rereading the same paragraph while daydreaming of blondie McCharming isn’t gonna you anywhere, now will it.”

“Shut  _ up _ , Iwaizumi.”

“Love you too, Kiyo.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Hey, it’s better than Iwa-chan.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s kinda cute.”

“Shut up, ‘Kaashi.”

“Love you too, Iwaijime.”

“Oh my fucking  _ god _ .”

“Serves you right, you two bit assh—”

“High ho, my hoes, back to work we go.”

A collective chorus of, “Shut  _ up _ , Terushima.”

A scoff and a roll of eyes. “Gee, I really feel the love guys.”

—

The days between the museum tour and their date passed by in a blur of regular life and the new activity of exchanging texts filled with shared secrets and what they called their ‘eccentric normalities’.

Saturday finally came and Atsumu was not yet ready. At all.

“Yo-chan, what about this?”

“Daddy, no! You wore that last time!”

“Ack, okay how ‘bout this?”

“No, no, no.”

“Why not?”

“Daddy will only get it dirty with how clumsy he is.”

“Yo-chan, that’s not true!”

“‘Samu ji-san always tells me about daddy making a mess of his kitchen.”

“Baby, that was an intentional me— that’s not the point!”

Chiyo giggled, bouncing in place where she kneeled in the middle of the blonde’s bed, surrounded by all the clothes her father had tossed aside. It was almost time for the raven to come and Atsumu was standing in the middle of his uncharacteristically messy room in all his inked glory and a pair of black boxers. He had asked his daughter for help over an hour ago and they had yet to come to an agreement.

Atsumu groaned, gripping his hair in frustration. He really wanted the date to go well, and if he scared the other off with his poor choice of clothes or overexposure of all his tattoos then, well… he was screwed. And that was another thing: he wasn’t sure how Kiyoomi would react to his inked artworks. Sure, there was nothing wrong with having tattoos, but he’s had enough bullshit from conservative people who think they ‘taint’ you or some other shit like that. Plus, with Kiyoomi’s aversion to mess and germs and stuff… god, he really didn’t want to fuck it up. He knew the other wasn’t the type to be an ass about things like tattoos, but the mere probability that he was had Atsumu’s brain going on overdrive and he was still in his boxers and his room was a mess and his toe was still throbbing from when he stubbed it against the bedpost and there was the forecast of rain that night and—

The doorbell rang.

“ _ Shit _ .”

“Daddy said a bad word!”

“I’ll drop a bill in the jar later, baby! Help daddy out a lil’ and entertain Omi-kun for a bit, yeah?”

“Gummies later?”

The blonde paused to turn to his innocently smiling daughter with narrowed eyes. “‘Yer bargaining skills are getting better… I have taught ‘cha well.”

Chiyo beamed up at him. Atsumu chuckled, stepping over a pile of who-knows-what to tap his daughter’s nose. “Alright, ‘ya squirt. But just three itty pieces, ‘ya hear me?”

“Love ‘ya daddy! Oh, and wear the one Sho Sho got you with the black pants you never gave back to ‘Samu ji-san!” she hollered before running out the open door.

“That, I— don’t tell your uncle!”

“Make it five gummies!”

“Oi,  _ ‘ya little _ … fine!”

Time was running, Atsumu could hear the raven’s voice from down the hallway, and holy shit, his daughter was a mastermind negotiator and an awesome fashionista. He rummaged through the rest of his drawers until he found the shirt Shoyo had gotten him for his birthday. It was a simple, white, cotton button up that had a few stitched minimalistic details on the collar, and paired with his brother’s black slacks which he definitely had to discreetly return some time soon, he really did look good. He already styled his hair prior to his outfit dilemma so after adding on a few silver rings and studs, he headed out.

Nearing the end of the hall, Kiyoomi’s soft voice filtered through. Along with the soft giggles of his daughter, Atsumu thought that it must be how heaven sounded like.

“Omi-kun, I’m sorry I took a while but—”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

Okay,  _ okayokayokayokay _ …

Atsumu Miya, when overwhelmed or stressed, had developed a habit of making a list in his head to dissect the problem or issue at hand so it wouldn’t seem so overwhelming, kind of like taking a bite out of a slice of pizza rather than shoving the entire box into his mouth.

Okay.

_ Okay _ . So, in his head, the list went like this:

  1. It should be considered illegal to wear tailored pants with how goddamn _sinful_ it looked wrapped around those strong looking thighs. Really, they looked more like second skin than pants.
  2. Those shoulders… _mhhhh_. Yup, he didn’t even have to elaborate. Shoulders. That’s it.
  3. Kiyoomi looked like a meal in his go-to black on black outfits, sure, but he looked like a fucking angel in white and gray. He wasn’t off about the heaven thing. It also highlighted the black leather gloves the other wore as usual.
  4. The top was unbuttoned so… freaking… low… tiddies peaking out and all...
  5. Oh sweet strawberry strips, was that _eyeliner_? And lip tint? Gloss? What? Oh _shit_ , his lips looked so much more kissable. That’s just unfair. Mean, Omi Omi.
  6. His clavicles looked so delectable. Maybe they could skip dinner if he could persuade the raven just enough. He needed time if he wanted to worship each and every mole on Kiyoomi’s skin.
  7. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and boy, did it make his arms look thicker. Oh, and the colorful marker lines made the moles on the inner part of his forearm stand out even more with the stark contrast—



Wait, colored markers?

"Yo-chan, no, we don't just randomly draw on other people's skin!" Even though the sight made his heart combust and his brain list another 30 things about the scene and other similarly domestic ideas like it.

Chiyo stopped drawing to pout at her father when he hurriedly picked her up from the floor to dust at her skirt and collect her markers to clean up a bit.

"I'm so sorry Omi Omi, I let ‘er do it to me all the time and 'Samu and Sho-kun also indulge her and—  _ oh, thank god, she used the water based ones _ . Uhm, ‘ya can just wash ‘em off in the sink and—”

“Miya.”

Atsumu perked up from where he crouched, silently scolding his still pouting daughter. “Yeah?”

Kiyoomi had a small smile on his face when he reached over to ruffle the little girl’s hair fondly, turning Chiyo’s pout around. “Don’t be mad, I let her do it since she said it makes people prettier, isn’t that right, Chiyo-chan?”

Chiyo nodded fervently, looking up at her father with wide doe eyes. “‘S true daddy! Kiyo-san even pulled up his sleeves so I had more space, see?”

The blonde let out a breath, shoulder sagging. “Well, alright.” he blinked. “ Wait a minute, when did ‘ya get nicknames and stuff?”

The raven pointed to an area on his arm. “Somewhere between the maroon Cassiopeia looking squiggle and the absurdly bright yellow-green Orion’s belt.”

“‘Ya know about constellations?”

“I work in a museum, Miya.”

“‘Ya work in the prehistory department, and working in a museum doesn't immediately mean ‘ya know about stars and all that.”

“Touché, but working in the prehistory department  _ does _ include knowing about civilizations and entire cultures that relied on the stars for guidance, thus meaning I have to be knowledgeable about celestial beings.”

“Oh.”

Atsumu might have fallen in love just then.

Kiyoomi raised a brow teasingly. “I’m surprised you knew I was even talking about constellations in the first place.”

Chiyo softly tugged at the edge of Kiyoomi’s glove to grab his attention, the man giving her his utmost attention. “Daddy says that the stars hold all the secrets of the universe and when it’s time to go, we all just go back to the stars.”

The raven smiled, giving her another pat on the head. “Is that so?”

“Mhm! The stars are our best friends and will always listen to our wishes!”

Atsumu was truly ready to give half his inheritance to this man, without a doubt. Every one of his interactions with his daughter made the blonde want to cry and scream in fondness and adoration. But the sound of the rain pelting the windows had him rushing back to reality.

Shit, their date.

“No. no, no,  _ no _ ,” Atsumu whined, groaning into his hands. “The forecast said it wasn’t gonna rain today.”

A hum. “Maybe it’ll let up after a while.”

Loud thunder boomed as lightning crackled in the sky. Such theatrics, really, and perfect timing.

“Or maybe not.”

Another loud groan from the blonde as he slumped against the coffee table. “Dammit, but I even reserved us at this really quaint and hygienic restaurant a few blocks over. It was really clean, Omi! I made sure of that, and, and, I even asked ‘Samu and Sho-kun to babysit Chiyo so I could give ‘ya all of my attention. And there was this shop that doubled as a bookstore and cafe that I wanted to bring you to-”

“Miya.”

“Ugh, I really had everything planned out, Omi-kun, it was supposed to be perfect and ‘ya would’ve fallen in love with me by the end of the night but now it’s all ruined a-”

The tentative and shy touch on his wrists, tugging them down to uncover his face, had him halting in shock. Kiyoomi was willingly holding him with his bare hands, the gloves discarded on his lap.

“Miya, look at me and listen, yeah?” his tone was soft and low, but there was strength behind it, conviction perhaps. Atsumu swallowed and nodded, peering at the ebbing cosmos encased in glassy darkness.

“Nothing’s ruined, okay? No, don’t give me that look, nothing’s ruined. Sure, things didn’t go as planned, but it’s fine. We’ll just improvise, hm? Alright?”

The consistent, comforting strokes on the inside of his wrists helped the blonde calm down gradually, along with the warm baritone of the raven’s voice. Taking a deep breath, Atsumu nodded, giving the other a soft smile which Kiyoomi mirrored. A small gasp had reminded the two men that they were not alone.

“Daddy, you and Kiyo-san can just have a date here!”

“Eh?”

“Yeah, yeah! Daddy can cook and, and I can help! We can play music and sing along like in the movies, it’s gonna be fun!” The little girl beamed up at them.

“Huh,” Atsumu blinked, still processing the suggestion. He looked back at Kiyoomi, arching a brow in question. “That sound fine with ‘ya?”

Kiyoomi shrugged. “Less of a crowd so sure.”

They shared a small laugh. The raven stood first, helping the blonde and his daughter up as they moved to the kitchen after shutting the curtains and turning the music on to drown out the sound of the rain. Atsumu sent a quick text to his brother to not come anymore, giving him the bare details. Once they laid out all the materials and ingredients they needed, the father and daughter tried to persuade the other to simply sit and converse but Kiyoomi refused to not help out.

“Hand me that knife or I’m walking out.”

“O-oi, Omi-kun, don’t sound so threatening, geez. Here, don’t go stabbing us, yeah?”

“Mh, sure, sure.”

“Yo-chan, did that sound believable to ‘ya?”

“Hm… nuh uh.”

“Yup, thought so.”

“Your corn is burning, Miya.”

“Shit!”

“Swear jar!”

“Ack,  _ dammit _ .”

The rest of the affair was less eventful after the corn incident, but it was clear all of them were enjoying the simple preparations and all. Chiyo kept on giggling and Sakusa kept on amusing her with stories. Atsumu watched it all with a smile on his face. There, in that very moment, he was sure that he had all that he needed. It was when he rolled his sleeves further up to do the dishes that Kiyoomi asked.

"You have tattoos?"

Atsumu froze, trying to cover up with a nervous chuckle. "Uh, yeah."

"Oh. So that's what you meant that Chiyo did it to you too."

The blonde eyed the other's unchanging expression. "'ya don't think they're, I dunno, dirty or something?"

Kiyoomi raised a brow at him. "No. I think that they are wonderful works and that it takes real commitment to have them inked on your skin permanently. Plus, you," he averted his eyes and continued to chop the carrots with pink tinged cheeks. "You look good with them."

"Oh." Atsumu blinked then grinned at the raven. "Thanks, Omi-kun."

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head."

The blonde threw his head back in laughter, all his worries vanishing in an instant.

The chatter continued throughout dinner itself before slowly dwindling when Chiyo’s bedtime approached. Atsumu excused himself as he picked up his already drowsy daughter and carried her to her room. He tucked her in, making sure her new favorite weasel plushie was snug as well.

“Daddy?” she whispered, voice barely comprehensible through the bunched up blanket she brought up to her nose.

“Yeah, squirt?”

“Is Kiyo-san gonna stay with us forever?”

The blonde smiled, stroking her hair softly. “Does Yo-chan want Omi to stay with us forever?”

The girl nodded, eyes already shut. “Want him to stay forever and ever.”

Atsumu leaned down to kiss her forehead, heart full and overflowing. “Me too, squirt. Me too.”

He quietly left the room, shutting the door softly. When he got back to the main area, he found Kiyoomi sitting by the sofa.

“Hey,” he called softly.

“Hi there,” the raven smiled at him.

“‘Ya want wine?”

“Sure, I’ll trust your judgement that it’s good.”

“Omi, you wound me. My taste is impeccable.”

“Miya, I first met you wearing a shirt with a very questionable rendition of Scooby Doo.”

“‘Ya don’t question the Doo, Omi Omi. Plus, I have a pic of you wearing Family Guy printed fleece pajamas so ‘ya ain’t one to talk.”

A huff. “I told you it was an accident and to delete it.”

“And lose good blackmail material? Please, I grew up with a sneaky bastard for a friend, I’ve learned my lessons.”

Kiyoomi chuckled as he accepted the glass Atsumu handed him, swirling the red wine before taking a sip, humming in appreciation after. “They sound like they’d have good material on you. I’d love to meet them.”

“Oh god, if you and Sunarin meet it would be the end of the world.” Atsumu groaned.

“Well then,” Kiyoomi raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to messy mall spills and onigiri obsessed colleagues.”

Atsumu chuckled, clinking his own glass against the other’s. “Here, here.”

They continued to talk about everything and nothing at all, the wine bottle slowly growing empty. Atsumu gasped when a french song began to play. “Omi, dance with me.”

The raven frowned, slightly flushed. “I’m not a good dancer.”

“Neither am I,” the blonde shrugged, setting his glass down and standing up. He offered his hand to the other, a small smile on his face. “Omi, hold?”

It was how Atsumu had asked for permission from the other all night, a small mutter of his name and what he wanted to do, very mindful of the other’s touch and contact aversion. It took him a moment but the raven gave him a gentle nod, laying his hand on top of his, smiling as well. Atsumu held the other’s right hand in his left, their other hands settling respectfully on each other’s waist. They swayed softly, Atsumu humming along to the song despite not knowing its exact lyrics. And when the night grew darker and rain continued to persist, Atsumu asked the question Chiyo had asked him.

“Omi, stay?”

Kiyoomi brought him closer, pulling his head forward to rest the blonde’s temple on his cheek.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Of course.”

Always.

Even after the last star dies and burns out, Atsumu would create his own galaxy and welcome Kiyoomi into it with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know your thoughts on this! ^-^


End file.
